Dean, That's Not the Remote
by eclecticxdetour
Summary: [WINCEST of the SamDean Persuasion][Rated M for Extreme SLASH]Sam and Dean fight over the remote.


The brothers Winchester had just finished up a hunt; a freakin' ectoplasmic spirit whom didn't wanna leave cleanly and exploded nasty gooey ectoplasm all over Dean when they'd salted and burned the mofo's bones, conveniently missing Sam entirely, leaving his pain-in-the-ass little brother clean.

Upon arrival back at the hotel, Dean shoved Sam out of the way and stormed into the bathroom, shucking off his ruined clothes as he went, flipping Sam the bird as Sam laughed.

Sam continued chuckling to himself even after Dean had slammed the door. He grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge and made himself comfortable on his bed, snatching up the remote and flicking on the television. He settled on a documentary on the hibernation of bears and kicked back and sucked on his beer.

Sam smirked at Dean over the lip of his bottle when Dean came out of the bathroom, accompanied by a cloud of steam. He wasn't able to keep the laugh in his chest when he realized Dean had scrubbed himself pink.

"You're such an ass, Sammy," mumbled Dean as he rummaged for his pajama pants in his duffel, "just because _you _didn't get fuckin' gooed on…"

Sam only laughed harder at all the innuendos there and Dean threw his soggy towel at him in frustration.

"Aw, poor _De_. Did little Deanykins get a widdle ectoplasm on him?" laughed Sam.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam as he pulled on his pajama pants, "I will _kill _you."

"Nah, I don't think you will."

"You're right," sighed Dean, rubbing a hand through his hair. He leered at Sam and then lunged at him, "But I will kick your ass."

Sam quickly dodged the attack and Dean landed on the bed next to him.

Dean pouted at Sam and Sam sighed, making room for him as he scooted closer to Sam, slinging his arm across Sam's chest and tucking the other around his waist.

Sam smiled and stroked Dean's hair as they watched the bears on the television.

"I'd never kick your ass, Sammy," whispered Dean, playing with the hem of Sam's t-shirt.

"I know you wouldn't."

There was silence again until Sam said, "I'm sorry for making fun of you."

Dean huffed out a laugh against Sam's chest, "You're not. But I'll accept your apology anyway, so long as you grab me a beer."

"Sure," said Sam, smiling and gently prying Dean's arms from around his body, "hang on a sec."

Dean made himself more comfortable on the bed after a futile search for the remote.

Sam handed Dean his beer and plopped down on the bed next to Dean, Dean resuming his hold across Sam's chest and around his waist.

Dean laid his head on Sam's chest and frowned at the screen, "What the _fuck _are we watching, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged and rubbed circles into Dean's lower back, "Bears."

"Nothing better on TV?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno…porn maybe?" asked Dean, a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked hopefully up at Sam.

"Nope," replied Sam, popping his mouth at the end of his word.

"Lemme see the remote, then," requested Dean, leaning up on Sam's chest and holding out his hand expectantly.

Sam slapped lightly at his brother's hand, "I'm actually watching this, man."

Dean snorted, "You can't be serious."

"Honest. Dude, it's kinda interesting if you pay attention."

"You're lame, Sammy. Now hand over the remote."

Sam pawed absently at the floor and grabbed the remote shaking it at Dean then pulling it away when Dean tried to take it from him, "Nuh-uh-uh. Can't have it."

"I'm using this as part of your apology, then."

"No way."

"Give me the damn remote, Sam."

Sam held it just out of reach and laughed when Dean tried to get it again, only to end up face-planting into Sam's chest.

"Give it _here_."

Sam just stuck his tongue out and laughed when Dean failed to grab it from him once more.

"Don't make me wrestle you for it."

"Really wanna have a go, Dean?" asked Sam, momentarily taking his attention away from the TV screen to quirk his eyebrow at his brother.

"If it'll get you to hand over the remote, then yes."

Sam spread his arms wide and said, "Go for it, then."

Dean grinned wickedly and pushed Sam off the bed in a pile of flailing limbs, jumping on top of him and straddling Sam's body, "I want to watch something else."

Sam held his arms above his head and shook his head, repeating, "Nope."

Dean tickled Sam's sides and said, "Give it to me."

Sam smirked and thrust his hips up, "Oh I'll _give it to you_, De."

"Bitch," snarked Dean.

"Jerk," replied Sam, pushing Dean off of him and running to the other side of the room, Dean hot on his tail.

"I want the fuckin' remote, Samantha."

"You'll have to catch me to get it, Dean."

Dean bounded over the bed and Sam let out a laugh, jumping over the cushioned chair and then over the bed again as Dean chased him in circles.

Dean tackled Sam to the ground and Sam let out a grunt, losing his hold on the remote as it flew across the floor.

Dean scrambled for it as did Sam, Sam reaching it first and shoving it down his jeans and into his boxer-briefs.

Sam jumped up from the floor the moment he was able to get his legs beneath him and bounced onto the bed.

Dean growled and jumped on top of Sam, reaching his hand into Sam's jeans, "If you think putting it in here is going to thwart me, you're mistaken, little brother."

"Dean!" gasped Sam as the back of Dean's fingers brushed over his cock.

"Hm," hummed Dean in amusement, a glint of mischief in his eye as he bypassed the plastic remote and stroked down Sam's cock, "I think I found it."

"Dean," warned Sam, "that's _not _the remote."

"No?" asked Dean, cocking his head at Sam as his brother hardened in his fist, "Well, I think I want this more than the remote anyway."

"_Fuck_," gasped Sam, bucking up into Dean's touch when Dean thumbed the head.

Dean pulled his hand out of Sam's shorts and held it up in front of Sam's face where Sam quickly pulled it to his mouth and licked, slicking Dean's palm so he could fist his cock.

Dean grinned and plunged his hand right back in, stroking Sam with hard, sure strokes, "Like that, Sammy?" he asked, twisting his fist on the upstroke, rubbing his thumb down the vein on the underside on the downstroke.

"You know I fuckin' do. _Jesus_, don't stop."

"Not gonna stop, Sammy, not until I make you come for me. Come hot and hard, all over the inside of your shorts, moaning my name as you shoot your load."

"Shit, _Dean_, you keep talkin' like that and I will."

Dean leant forward and pressed their mouths together as he muttered against Sam's lips, squeezing tight as he stroked Sam one more time, "I'm counting on it."

Sam moaned and thrust up, coming in thick spurts inside his shorts just like Dean asked of him.

Dean rubbed him through the aftershocks and licked a bruise into Sam's neck as his baby brother shuddered. He pulled his hand from Sam's shorts and lapped up Sam's release, sharing Sam's taste when he licked into Sam's mouth again.

Sam gasped when he felt Dean's hand worm its way back into his underwear, petting his half-hard cock and lower still, swirling his saliva-slick fingertips over Sam's entrance.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" asked Dean, biting at the juncture between Sam's neck and shoulder.

"That's _still _not the remote."


End file.
